


The Last Time

by TessaTheirin



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 18:18:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3946873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TessaTheirin/pseuds/TessaTheirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jasmine Trevelyan is informed of Cullen’s impending death upon defeating Corypheus</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Enigma_Zero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigma_Zero/gifts).



Corypheus thrusted the orb toward the rift. It rippled and rumbled in protest against the magic, soon collapsing in an eerie, deafening silence. The orb fell and smashed against the stone beneath the magister’s feet. The glowing had dulled before disappearing completely. Corypheus followed its previous path to his knees, a defeated sigh leaving his lyrium-deformed mouth. 

Jasmine took a step toward the fallen darkspawn. Chunks and boulders from the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes crumbled down around him, dust coating Jasmine’s exposed skin and stuck to strands of her fiery red hair. Her mouth pulled downward as she struck her hand out toward Corypheus, streams of green magic exploding from the mark on her palm. His limp body lifted high into the air, throaty cries the only sound echoing across the Temple’s destroyed courtyard. 

“I will give you what you always wanted. This time, you will never return from the fade,” Jasmine spat, eyes narrowed in disgust at the former man before her. She curled her hand into a fist. 

The magisters’ skin glowed green, waves of the fade magic radiating from his hovering body before morphing into a ball of light so bright Jasmine was forced to shield her eyes. His body had disappeared upon reopening her eyes, only a reminder of the chaos caused by Corypheus’ strive for power left in his wake. Jasmine lowered her hand and let out a burst of laughter--more in surprise than actual enjoyment. The Inquisitor was unsure of how she accomplished it, but Corypheus had been defeated and Thedas was safe--at least for now. 

“Inquisitor…” 

Cassandra. Jasmine turned, a beaming smile quickly spreading across her face. It disappeared the moment their eyes met. The Seeker’s brow was wrinkled, with a mouth pulled too tightly for having just witnessed victory. Jasmine scoffed, admittedly a little annoyed at Cassandra’s lack of approval. “I thought Corypheus’ death would have satisfied you, Seeker.” 

With a downturned gaze, Cassandra tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword to hide the violent shaking. Her unwavering voice showed the strength her body refused to. “It’s the Commander.” 

“Well spit it out!” Jasmine ordered. Worry lodged in her throat and prevented further words from leaving her mouth. 

“He is dying, Inquisitor,” Cassandra admitted, wasting little time with emotional comfort. “The healers are attempting to make him comfortable but, sadly, it’s all they can do.” 

Jasmine heard the words perfectly but was unable to register them. The Commander was...dying? It was impossible. She hadn’t the chance to say goodbye, she…

Disbelief and sorrowed washed every incomplete thought and potential word from her mind, only an aching deep within Jasmine’s chest remaining. “Take me to him,” Jasmine whispered, the intended harshness of her tone falling short. 

Jasmine could never have prepared herself for Cullen’s broken appearance. His eyes were shut, but the periodic wrinkle of his cracked nose and the wince that left his mouth told Jasmine that unconsciousness, and death, had yet to take him. Bluish bruises decorated the right side of his face, following the line of his jaw and framing his eye socket. The ripped tunic Cullen wore was more blood than fabric, the original colour unrecognizable. The sight of her lover sprawled across the wooden stretcher almost brought Jasmine to her knees. Instead, she forced herself forward to his side. 

“Cullen…” She whispered, voice cracking from the threat of tears. They loomed in the corner of her eyes, building and blurring Jasmine’s eyesight. “Who did this to you?” 

A shaky breath forced its way into Cullen’s lungs, his weak muscles protesting the movement. He lifted a gloved hand and attempted to touch her cheek. Jasmine aided his efforts, taking Cullen’s hand in hers and pressing it against her skin. Her eyelids fluttered closed. 

It was unbearable. The anguish that manifested itself as an impossible tightness in her chest was a pain Jasmine had never before experienced. Breathtaking and overwhelming and unimaginable. She begged to find the strength that had once existed inside her, now nowhere to be found. Jasmine pushed it back, shoved the pain down into the recesses of her brain, and reopened her eyes. 

“The Venatori.” Cullen gasped and groaned, fist curling around the thin fabric of his tunic that covered the gash along his side. Discomfort was evident in the wrinkle of his brow and contortion of his lip, and Jasmine desperately wished there was a way to take it all from him. Cullen’s ragged breathing made it difficult to force the remainder of his words out, “You should not have to see me like this, Inquisitor.” 

“There is no place else I’d wish to be.” Jasmine couldn’t hide the quiver of her bottom lip. She was not a woman who cried often, but tears slipped down her cheeks without permission. Her shaking lips pulled into a tight frown. “I will end them. They will suffer. I will see to it myself.”

Cullen shook his head, words frantic and fast as they fell from his mouth. “I should not have pushed myself so far. I should not have…”

“Don’t think like that, Cullen,” Jasmine said, running the tips of her fingers along his colourless cheek. Blood still drained from the wound along his abdomen. It was a matter of moments now. The thought of losing him sent Jasmine’s stomach rolling, the pain tugging at her heart and demanding to be felt. As Jasmine pressed her forehead against Cullen’s, memories of their first night together resurfaced. A smile tugged on her lips--albeit, a small one.

Cullen chuckled, “I want your smile to be the last thing I see.” 

His muscles began to relax and weigh against her, breath shallow and slow. Jasmine choked back a sob, voice barely above a whisper as she spoke, “I love you.” 

Cullen’s lungs tightened and refused air, eyes wide with panic at the threat of death. This was it, there was no doubt. Cullen opened his mouth to tell Jasmine all he felt, how glorious his life had been with her at his side--despite how brief it might had been. The words stuck in his throat like glue, unwilling to budge. Jasmine pushed back loose strands of curly hair from his face. Her lips met his forehead. 

“You will be fine. I love you,” Jasmine cried against his skin. Her arms only tightened around Cullen as his body stilled against her and his last breath fell from his lips. Jasmine’s sobs grew in intensity with each passing moment, shaking her shoulders with surprising force. 

She prayed to a God--any God, all Gods--for his return. It was foolish. It was childish and weak, but Jasmine refused to believe her love had left this world forever. That his words would never grace her ears, that the memory of his touch would dissipate in time. That the comfort his presence brought to her was lost. It was simply gone. He was gone. 

“Inquisitor…” Cassandra pulled aside the tent opening, voice thick with sorrow. Jasmine scowled at the thought of the Seeker’s sympathy. “It is time to address the people.” 

A deep breath filled Jasmine’s lungs, Cassandra’s voice a reminder of all that had been accomplished this night. She wiped the tears from her stained cheeks. Now was not the time to be mournful of death, but to celebrate their victory. With newfound composure and a stony expression Jasmine said, “I will be there in a moment, Cassandra.”


End file.
